


And There Was A Home Before Home Before Home Now

by CherryBonBon



Series: And Something's Got To Give [3]
Category: Dungeons & Dragons (Roleplaying Game), Dungeons & Dragons - All Media Types, Original Work
Genre: Aftermath of Violence, Found Family, Gen, Near Death, Nonbinary Character, Team Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:42:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,735
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25500034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryBonBon/pseuds/CherryBonBon
Summary: Sometimes too many health potions and not enough blood leads to admitting secrets you never thought you'd confess.
Relationships: Original Character & Original Character
Series: And Something's Got To Give [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1847296
Kudos: 1





	And There Was A Home Before Home Before Home Now

**Author's Note:**

> You ever just... get in a Mood and write a bonding scene between your DnD character and a NPC that you really like?

Scylla doesn’t like talking about their past. People don’t usually realize this, because Scylla _loves_ talking about being a merchant marine. About the last 200 years of their life, which is long enough that most people would consider that a ‘past’ and not realize that Scylla is leaving out another 124 years before that they do. Not. Like. Talking. About.

Sure Scylla will make a vague reference to life before being a sailor, and logically there must have been something before that anyway, but it was clearly such a small part of their life that people forget that it’s… relevant. Important. Something that they would even remember. What elf remembers what happened when they were 124, anyway?

Scylla. Scylla remembers. Scylla remembers vividly, wouldn’t dare to forget, and refuses to talk about it other than in the vaguest terms that no one is interested following up on.

That’s another thing about Scylla. They’re so _weird_. They toss out the strangest sentences that when they say something that could be concerning, might need a follow up question, might hint at something deeper… people just ignore them. Clearly it’s not important, just the weird sea elf being weird. And Scylla likes it that way. Wants to keep it that way. Wanted to.

It is hard to actively want to keep secrets when you’re dying, so technically Scylla _liked_ it that way and _didn’t_ like talking about their past. Now the only thing they want or feel is _slowly dying_. Still, they doubt they’d start coughing up the past along with the blood.

But who knows. No one has asked yet, and the memories are playing out across fluttering eyelids. Of home, of home before home, of home now. And things start to become clear, start to become obvious.

Everything is Scylla’s fault. It all leads back to them. It all leads back to their damn past.

Rimero is trying to push a healing potion into their hands, their mouth maybe, when Scylla laughs. He leans back in surprise and they grin at him, blood bubbling up from their chest and out their mouth. 

He pushes the potion at them again after recovering from his surprise and this time Scylla takes it. There’s a familiar zing through their veins as their body knits itself back together just a little bit. But only slightly, enough to be stable and no longer bleeding out. There’s a stale aftertaste in their mouth, old potion less than effective.  
Rimero pulls out another healing potion and hands it to them. Scylla stares up, unsure, but he nods encouragement and so they take it. Another zing, more knitting, and the painful ache in Scylla’s bones dulls slightly. Not well enough to fight, but no longer dying.

The memories do not fade, however. Home before home before home now is still playing in their mind, could potentially be taking up permanent residency in the forefront of their mind, and before Scylla can catch themself they say:

“I miss my brother.”

Rimero blinks, pauses from where he’s pulling out yet another healing potion (Scylla is now present enough to realize he’s getting them from _their bag_ , not his own) and rocks back on his heels. “I didn’t know you had a brother.”

“I don’t like talking about him.” Scylla reaches out and into his bag, pulling out one of his healing potions. They drink it slowly, giving him plenty of time to stop them, but he just watches carefully.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He seems uncertain in a way that he usually isn’t. Probably because he thought he knew all of their secrets, all of their past. Is trying to figure out if they lied and he didn’t realize.

“I was supposed to go back,” Scylla says. Because technically that’s not talking about him, but it’s still getting the words out. And they need to get them out now. While the images are playing out in front of them, overlaid with real time. “I was never supposed to be gone forever. And… now I might be. I don’t know if I can go back. Not just because I’m here but because… I don’t know if…” They wave their hand in the air loosely, “if _he’ll_ let me. I’m a part of something now, you know?”

“Right, you’re… eye god thing.” Rimero chooses to focus on the less contentious topic. Still contentious, make no mistake, but less so. “Do you want to talk about what happened?” Ah, always curious, that one. He likes secrets, likes owning them. And he’s used to Scylla trusting him with theirs.

“No.” They don’t snap, but it’s a close thing. Still they sigh, steal another one of his healing potions, and the ache turns just this side of pleasant. “I was born in a bubble city.” He watches them, and it’s clear he doesn’t know what that means, so they lean back in their own blood and explain.

“In the elemental plane of water there isn’t much… land, you see? There’s not enough to go around. Not everyone can live on it. So instead most people live underwater in magical pockets of air called bubble cities. I’m from one. I lived there for… 124 years, before I was cast out. Banished.” Another lazy wave. “Other words for being banned from your home.”

“Oh… I’m sorry, dear.” He seems genuinely sorry, and Scylla appreciates it. “Do you want to talk about what happened?”

“ _No_.” More forceful this time, even closer to a snap, but they sigh yet again. Scylla leans forward and slides a hand across the floor through their blood, stopping just a hair away from Rimero. “I can tell you anyway. Someone should know. I’m the only one who does, now. Other than the people back in the bubble city.”

“I’m not going to force you.” Still, his eyes burn with curiosity. They will until he finds out, that’s just how he works. But he’ll respect their choice either way.

“It’s stupid,” Scylla starts in a way that minimizes it, at least to them, because it makes it easier. “I was out messing around with some friends and I… tore a hole in the bubble. That shouldn’t even be possible, you know? I mean, it’s magic. What kind of magic isn’t tear resistant.” Rimero takes their hand and squeezes gently.

“It was an accident.” He says it with such confidence that for a moment Scylla can only nod.

“It didn’t matter.” They look down. “People got hurt, property was damaged. I couldn’t stay, I was a danger to everyone and everything around me. I had to leave and… learn. 200 years is not a long time for sea elves, in the grand scheme of things. But it’s just long enough to mean something. Just long enough to be taught an important lesson.”

“You were exiled from your home for _200 years_ over an accident?” And then he’s… not really doing the math, more just remembering all the times they’ve said how old they are or how long they’ve been a merchant marine or… ah. Dawning realization. “It’s been that long already. You could go back, if you wanted.”

“Maybe. I don’t know.” Scylla shrugs, looks at their entwined hands. “Like I said, I don’t know if he’d let me. I’m part of a bigger picture now.” They hum, and it sounds terrible not in that they’re bad at humming but in that it’s not _them_ humming. Instead what’s coming out of their throat is the discordant melody of Cthulhu, great and horrible, and while Scylla is unaffected it makes Rimero wince for a reason he can’t name. They take pity on his sanity and stop. “But it’s more than that. I’ve changed. Not just— not just because of him but because of everything I’ve been through in all this time. What if I don’t fit in anymore? What if I can’t be happy in a bubble city?”

“You are a free spirit.” He shakes his head to get the humming out and for a moment Scylla is worried they made a mistake and it’ll be stuck in there, but then his face clears. “A bubble city seems… confining for you.”

“It does seem that way.” Scylla takes back their hand and curls up in on themself. “I don’t think I want to go back. But I miss home. What was home.”

“You don’t consider it home anymore?” He tilts his head, curious again. Always curious. Like a cat edging closer and closer to the end.

“The bubble city was home. And then my ship was. And I think now…” This is hard to admit, something vulnerable. But important. “My life with the guild is home. But I still miss it. Miss my moms, my brother.”

“What were they like?” And this is a dangerous question, because Rimero knows Scylla doesn’t like talking about people. Scylla talks about things. Things are easier. People? People are hard. Scylla only talks about people when there’s a chance they can get them back, like with Aello. But when was the last time anyone heard Scylla talk about Charybdis? Or Sybaris? Two people so important to them, but gone. So Scylla shoves them down and doesn’t talk.

“What was your family like?” Scylla asks back, and that’s as good as ending the conversation. Rimero deals in secrets, but he does not give out his own. He likes to hoard them, the way a dragon might hoard gold. No one else can have them. That’s why Scylla always felt so safe telling him things, they knew he would keep a prized secret close to the chest. This was not one of the rare moments he would decide to share, not yet. Perhaps when _he_ was the one with four potions rushing through not enough blood.

“I think it’s time we got cleaned up and found the others, darling. Don’t you agree?” He’s standing now and reached a hand down to help Scylla up.

“Yea. Good idea.” They take his hand and he pulls them up in a quick motion that reminds them of… well. It reminds them. And Scylla has to blink a couple times to see the right person in front of them.

Just another thing to push down, as always. It isn’t hard. Scylla pushes down so much. Especially when it comes to their home before home before home now.


End file.
